finding joy in the little things

a good day

the littlun fell asleep before nine o’clock last night, which is the rarest of rare for our notorious night owl, but silly mama and papa stayed up talking until well after one in the morning — because when you live with the king-of-all-wild-things three year old, what other time can you find to have real talks about real things like what your dreams of the future look like or the people and experiences that shaped you into who you are today or just how downright terrifying change can be?

neither of us slept as well as we would have liked — up multiple times throughout the few hours of shut-eye we were able to get. our bright-eyed, bushy-tailed alarm clock didn’t seem too empathetic, but i could never complain; let it be known that there is no greater way to wake than to the sight of my son smiling up at me, his tiny, chubby hands brushing the messy hairs out of my sleepy eyes, and the sweet sound of his voice whispering, “i love you, mama.”

leaving the bed after that was near impossible. i wanted to hold onto that beautiful, little-slice-of-heaven moment forever, and to have it played back just as vividly in my mind anytime i felt myself letting the occasional frustration of raising a tiny human take over. because i so need these little reminders. i need to remember how much good and how much joy he brings us. i need to remember how he loves me and papa more than anything in the world, and what a tremendous responsibility that puts on us. i need to remember to be patient and to be kind and to let the little things go. i held onto the moment as long as i possibly could, but it slipped through my fingers.

and now, it’s time to tackle the monstrous mountain of laundry i’ve been putting off all week, and sweep the cat hair-covered floors, and scrub all the dirty dishes i couldn’t wash yesterday because there wasn’t a single drop of soap anywhere to be found. but i am determined to not let the mundane, every day tasks get us down. i’m gonna crack open the blinds and let a little sunshine in, drink a cup or two of the magic goodness that is hot black coffee, throw a new favourite record of mine on the turntable, and grab my littlun’s hands and dance until we’re dizzy.